


On Wasted Time

by moonrise31



Series: once, twice, and again until it's over [14]
Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, sorry in advance for the bad puns, tried to write angst but got this instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 10:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16891251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrise31/pseuds/moonrise31
Summary: In which Nayeon's heart is on the mend, and Jeongyeon is there, as always.Alternatively, in which Sana and Jihyo have it all figured out, and can't wait until their idiot friends do, too.





	On Wasted Time

**Author's Note:**

> supposedly based on steve aoki's "waste it on me" but that could be a lie

Her heart was broken before she turned eight years old.

It’s hard to love herself when the other kids only used her name as an insult. As if a name can be for only a boy or a girl, and her having a “boy” name made her less of a classmate than everyone else. She kept it to herself, because the first thing she’d been taught about bullies is to not give them what they want. 

But it hurt, and her heart broke slowly this way.

Seungyeon was the first to ask if something was wrong, but little Park Jihyo from down the street was the first one to do anything about it. Because one morning, Jihyo marched straight from the second-year hallway of their primary school and into her third-year classroom, and stomped on the foot of the one boy who laughed at her every day like it was what he wanted to do when he grew up.

Jihyo pinky promised to do the same to every other mean person in the entire world, just for her. But she still got her parents to change her name to Jeongyeon the very next week. Because other kids shouldn’t get detention for something she should be able to deal with herself -- even though all Jihyo’s punishment ended up being was clapping extra erasers free of chalkboard dust after school.

Jeongyeon stopped believing in fairy tales when she was eight years old. Not because she didn’t want her own happily-ever-after, but because she figured that stories just couldn’t explain reality. 

 

(“Really?” Nayeon asks more than ten years later, mirth coloring her tone like Jeongyeon’s favorite crayons -- the ones she’d used before she’d learned about things in life that were much harder to deal with than staying inside the lines. “Jihyo did that?”

Jeongyeon nods lazily. “It was then that I knew I should keep her.”

“That’s pretty adorable,” Nayeon agrees, reaching into the bowl on Jeongyeon’s lap for more popcorn. “Your own little knight in shining armor.”

The movie they’re watching is barely audible, but they’ve seen this one countless times already. Because Nayeon has declared it their “thing”: to rewatch films over and over until they can quote the entire two hours by heart. And Jeongyeon still can’t find any argument against that.

“Do you think that it was bad?” She asks suddenly. “Changing my name just because some kids kept laughing at me?”

Nayeon stuffs the handful of popcorn into her mouth and speaks around the crumbs. “Depends. Is it bad if I change my name to Jieun?”

Jeongyeon spares a glance at the numerous IU posters plastered all over the walls. “First of all, that would be creepy. And second of all, you don’t look like a Jieun.”

“First of all,” Nayeon retorts, “I would like IU even if I was born as a rabbit with exceptionally poor music taste. And second of all, you just don’t think I look like a Jieun because you already know me as a Nayeon.”

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes. “Your point?”

“My point,” says Nayeon, “is that I would like IU no matter what my parents named me. And you’re you, whether you’re called Kyungwan or Jeongyeon.”

Jeongyeon hums, reaching into the popcorn bowl. 

“But for the record,” Nayeon adds, “ ‘Jeongyeon’ sounds better. Objectively speaking.” And squeals when Jeongyeon throws a piece of popcorn at her nose.)

\---

“Jihyo,” Jeongyeon said as soon as the other girl slid into her booth in the coffee shop, “I like Nayeon.”

“Wow, not even a ‘hello’ or a ‘how are you’, or even a ‘congratulations on finishing your most difficult final of your second year in university, I’m sure you did your best and that’s all that matters’?” Jihyo picked up the drink Jeongyeon had ready for her and inhaled most of it in one gulp.

Jeongyeon watched in horrified fascination. “Don’t you burn your throat that way?”

“People who drink their hot coffee in sips are weak,” Jihyo sniffed, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. “Okay, so you like Nayeon-unnie. What else is new?”

Jeongyeon narrowed her eyes. “Could you consider toning down the sarcasm? I didn’t figure out that I liked her until literally two hours ago.”

“I realized as much from the panic text I got thirty seconds before my final started,” Jihyo deadpanned. “But if we’re being honest here, your heart knew way, way, _way_ before your brain did.”

Jeongyeon wrinkled her nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She raised her hands before Jihyo could reply. “Never mind, that’s not what’s important here. You do know why this is a problem, right? Me liking her?”

Jihyo blinked. “Because you’ve never dated before, and she hasn’t gone out with anyone since high school?”

“No,” Jeongyeon scoffed. And then paused. “Well, okay, some of it. Her ex is part of the problem.”

Jihyo nodded slowly. “Right. She still doesn’t feel like she’s ready to get into another relationship.”

“It wasn’t that long ago,” Jeongyeon sighed. “It really got to her head, and I don’t want to add to that.”

“Well,” said Jihyo. “You never know. Maybe she likes you too.”

Jeongyeon fiddled with the cardboard sleeve of the coffee cup in her hands. 

“And maybe she doesn’t,” Jihyo allowed. “I know it’s hard, but don’t you think it’s better if you two talk it out, instead of you just stewing in your feelings when they might not even be one-sided?”

“Okay, so here’s the thing.” Jeongyeon pushed her drink away from her. “I already told Nayeon that I liked her.”

“Oh.” Jihyo did nothing but blink for a few moments. “Oh. Wow, unnie, I’m really proud of you.”

Jeongyeon rolled her eyes. “Please, hold the applause.”

“Momentarily,” Jihyo promised. “So she doesn’t like you back?”

Jeongyeon hesitated. “Yes?”

Jihyo raised her eyebrows. She very carefully folded her arms, and then rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Please explain.”

“I didn’t mean to tell her. It just came out.” Jeongyeon groaned, covering her face with her hands. “We were hanging out, and she was swiping through that stupid dating app again --”

“Interesting that you’d think it’s stupid,” said Jihyo.

Jeongyeon glared at the other girl through the spaces between her fingers. “I already admitted that I like her.”

“You’re right.” Jihyo dipped her head once before returning to her default Yoo-Jeongyeon-I-don’t-know-what-you-did-but-I-do-know-you’re-an-idiot face. “Continue.”

“She was just complaining about how there weren’t any good options out there, and so I said that maybe she should stop looking on that app. Then she asked where she should look instead.”

Jihyo stared. “I’m not sure I want to hear what you said next.”

Jeongyeon took a deep breath. “And I said, ‘How about at me?’”

“Classic,” Jihyo drawled, resting her chin in one hand. “And so then Nayeon-unnie, understandably, laughed you into oblivion for being so goddamn obvious.”

Jeongyeon rolled her eyes. “Okay, first, you are way too snippy when you’re running on four hours of sleep. And second, she didn’t laugh at all. She just kind of stared. And didn’t say anything.” Jeongyeon winced. “So I said I had to go and left.”

Jihyo looked like she was about half a second from smashing her forehead into the table. “You didn’t even listen to her answer? How do you know she doesn’t like you back, then?”

Jeongyeon shrugged. “Because I’m not stupid.”

“You _are_ stupid,” Jihyo said, jabbing the other girl hard in the shoulder with her index finger. Then she paused, pulling her phone out of her pocket to glance at its screen. “I don’t have time for this, Yoo Jeongyeon. Get yourself sorted and then _talk_ to her.”

“That’s all the advice you have for me?” Jeongyeon protested. “I bought you coffee, and all you have to say is ‘talk to her’?”

“Yup.” Jihyo stood up, the legs of her chair scraping slightly against the tiled floor. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to get ready for.”

Jeongyeon raised a tired hand. “Okay, have fun.” She stared at her cup for a few moments, eyes mindlessly tracing the patterns printed on the cardboard. Then she jolted forward, snapping her head towards the door even though she knew Jihyo was already long gone. “Since when did you start dating?”

-

“I don’t get it.” Sana tilted her head. “What’s the problem here, exactly?”

Nayeon sighed. “It’s not that hard. I like Jeongyeon. Jeongyeon likes me. But only one of those is going to stay true forever. Hint: Jeongyeon already has an unhealthy obsession with Legos.”

“Stay on topic,” Sana said, sitting on the edge of the bed. She bounced with the mattress as Nayeon flopped backwards, back hitting the comforter with a soft thump. 

“Everything I’ve said is true and applicable to the situation,” Nayeon shot back. 

“Not every relationship is going to be like the one you had,” Sana reasoned, lying down on her side next to Nayeon and propping her head up with one hand. “Jeongyeon is at least ninety-nine times better than she was.”

Nayeon threw an arm over her eyes. “She is. Always has been, and I only realized probably just before you two started attending this university.”

Sana gasped. “I knew it! You totally hugged Jeongyeon for a second longer than you hugged me on our first day of class.”

Nayeon lowered her arm again so Sana could fully experience her eye-roll. “Only because she hates physical affection and it’s funny.” 

“Cute,” Sana cooed. “Is that in the top ten things you love about her, or are there just too many to count?”

Nayeon shoved the other girl in the shoulder, making Sana almost topple over. “Cut it out.”

“Another time, then,” said Sana, righting herself again. “But you do like her. And she even told you that she likes you too! What are you waiting for?” 

“I don’t know,” Nayeon murmured. “I know they’re different people. I’m a different person. It’s a different time and place, we’ve all grown and learned about ourselves, blah blah. But what if it ends the same, anyway?”

“It wouldn’t,” said Sana. “Either you guys become the elderly couple that bickers with each other while rocking on your front porch and yelling at the neighborhood kids to get off your lawn, or she breaks up with you and I kick her butt into the Han river.” Sana paused. “And if _you_ break up with _her_ , I’ll kick you in too.”

Nayeon frowned. “It sounds like you’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Obviously. I am annoyingly invested in the love lives of _all_ my friends.” Sana hummed. “How about we consider a hypothetical situation?”

Nayeon sighed. “Okay, sure.”

“Let’s say, hypothetically,” said Sana, “that I like Jihyo.”

Nayeon turned her head to glance at the other girl. “But you do like Jihyo.”

Sana nodded. “Okay, but let’s say I wanted to ask her out.”

Nayeon sat up so fast she whipped Sana in the face with her hair. “You asked her out?”

Sana wrinkled her nose, sneezed once, and then sniffed. “I said, ‘hypothetically’.”

“Okay.” Nayeon rolled her eyes. “Then I’d say, hypothetically, that it was about damn time.” She flicked Sana’s forehead. “I’m pretty sure you’ve set the record for time spent pining after a junior.”

“Don’t get cocky. Jeongyeon is younger than you, you cougar,” Sana snickered. And then screeched when Nayeon’s fingers jabbed into her stomach. “Unnie, stop!”

“Ouch! That was my shin,” Nayeon whined, withdrawing her hand to rub at the sore spot. “How are your toes so pointy?”

“Survival skill,” said Sana. “Also, Mina’s been teaching me ballet, and those shoes will actually crush your bones. Anyway. You’d tell me to go ahead and ask Jihyo out, right?”

“Right.” 

“But unnie,” Sana wailed in a voice much higher than usual, “what if we break up in the end?”

Nayeon snorted. “I absolutely do not sound like that.”

“You sort of do,” Sana said. She turned onto her stomach and threw an arm dramatically over Nayeon’s lap. “Now comfort me.”

A knock sounded at the door. Nayeon sighed, brushing Sana’s arm off as she got up. “Okay, okay, I get it. I should get over myself and just go out with Jeongyeon despite my reservations.”

Sana brightened. “Great. Also, you just did a full sit-up! Have you been working on your abs?”

Nayeon ignored her in favor of answering the door. “Oh, hey Jihyo.”

“Hey.” Jihyo peeked over the older girl’s shoulder. “Is Sana with you?”

“Girlfriend!” Sana leaped off of Nayeon’s bed and dashed over, practically tackling Jihyo right back over the threshold. 

“Girlfriend?” Nayeon gaped. “So you _did_ ask Jihyo out?”

“Right before my exam, too,” Jihyo grumbled in spite of her suddenly flushed cheeks. “You’d think if she was going to wait for most of high school _and_ university, she could have waited two more hours.” 

Nayeon pinned Sana with a glare. “You’ve been dating for a whole two hours and you didn’t tell me? Do you even know what the word ‘hypothetical’ means?”

“Hypothetically,” Sana said with an impossibly wide grin, “you didn’t ask.”

Nayeon gaped at her. “I literally did.”

Jihyo gave Sana a look. “Did you just try to explain her situation with Jeongyeon by using us as an example?”

“And that’s why I like you,” Sana chirped as she cupped the younger girl’s face in her hands. “You always get me.”

“It’s a survival skill.” Jihyo tugged her out into the hallway, giving a dumbfounded Nayeon a quick wave. “Bye, unnie. We have to go, or we’re going to be late.”

 

(“They’re late,” Sana gripes, knee bouncing up and down at an alarming frequency.

“They always are.” Jihyo reaches over and stills Sana’s leg. “Want to bet on the reason?”

Sana hums, placing her own hand over the one now resting comfortably on her thigh. “Jeongyeon is probably trying to clean all the dishes again so they won’t have to do it when they get back.”

“Or Nayeon-unnie is taking way too long picking from at least fifteen similar shades of lipstick,” Jihyo offers. 

“Deal,” says Sana. “So what should we bet on?”

“You can choose,” Jihyo tells her.

“I always choose,” Sana whines. “You choose this time.”

Jihyo raises her eyebrows. “Are you sure?”

Sana nods vigorously. 

“Okay then.” Jihyo hums, tapping her chin with her free hand as she pretends to think. “If I win, you have to kiss me.”

Sana laughs. “And if I win?”

Jihyo leans in closer, a smirk just barely tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Then I have to kiss you.”

“You really do drive a hard bargain.” Sana’s gaze flickers down to watch Jihyo’s smile widen. “But I guess I’ll take you up on it.”

“Alright, I know it’s double date night, but if you guys wanted some alone time, you could’ve just said so.” Jeongyeon plops into the seat across from Sana, and Nayeon pulls out the chair opposite Jihyo. 

“You can’t point fingers when we were the ones who were actually on time,” Jihyo promptly replies. “What took you so long, anyway?”

Jeongyeon rolled her eyes. “Nayeon decided to suddenly gain a sense of responsibility and spent the last half hour vacuuming the entire apartment.”

“Jeongyeon here was the one who spent thirty minutes in the bathroom trying to figure out which way to part her hair,” Nayeon immediately scoffs.

Sana glances at Jihyo. “Should we call it a draw?”

“You bet on us _again_?” Jeongyeon holds up a menu in front of her face. “Look away, unnie. They’re going to kiss.”

“Hot,” says Nayeon.

Sana winks back at the oldest, and Jihyo rolls her eyes. “Please just order already.”)

\---

On a Saturday night when Nayeon was barely seventeen, her girlfriend broke up with her.

The first thing Nayeon did after texting Jeongyeon about it was call Sana. Sana lived closer, and so arrived at Nayeon’s even before she was done trying to make her eyes look like she hadn’t sobbed enough to fill an entire ocean. 

Sana let herself through the front door and dashed up the stairs as fast as she could. Nayeon’s family had been her hosts for her first six months of high school, before her own parents managed to finish their affairs in Japan and accordingly followed. Which meant that Sana still knew the ins and outs of the Im household, like how there’s always a key under the second potted plant by the welcome mat, or that the top two steps to the second floor are a bit shorter than the rest, which meant she could jump over both and onto the landing without injuring herself -- at least ninety percent of the time.

“Unnie?” Sana burst into Nayeon’s room. She immediately knelt on the floor, gathering Nayeon in her arms and pulling the older girl close. “Unnie, I’m so sorry.”

Nayeon sniffed loudly, trying to hide her face in the crook of Sana’s neck without getting snot and who knows what else on the other’s sweatshirt. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was when I called you.”

“It’s not that late,” Sana said. “I just told my parents we were having a homework sleepover.” 

Nayeon crumpled the tissue in her hand. “They bought that?”

“For some reason, they think you are super studious and responsible. Which you are.” Sana patted Nayeon’s head gently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Nayeon did. 

The words she used were ones neither of them would remember exactly later on. Because it wasn’t what Nayeon was saying that was important, but the feelings behind it that she could never quite explain. The ones that painted a black picture, a dark hole filled with rocky jagged spires inching upwards like crooked teeth. 

Sana hugged Nayeon closer, wondering how a living body could feel this cold. 

(It’s these same feelings that will never quite fade, even as scars formed on her heart and aged along with her: a mouth that could swallow Nayeon whole whenever it wanted to. Nayeon still tries hard not to think about them too much, but Sana takes careful note all the same. Because they keep cropping up, time and time again, leaving Nayeon battered in ways Sana wishes they’d never had to discover.)

Sana was offering Nayeon yet another tissue when some rocks clattered against the windowpane. 

“That’s Jeongyeon, probably,” Nayeon murmured, voice thick but eyes a little less red than when Sana had come in.

“I’ll get the door,” Sana told her.

When Jeongyeon stepped into Nayeon’s room not a minute later, the first thing she said was, “You’ve looked better.”

“Thanks, I hadn't noticed,” Nayeon said, balling up the tissue and tossing it into the almost filled wastepaper basket. Then she frowned. “Wait, how did you get here?”

Jeongyeon shrugged as she sat down. “I walked. I didn’t know how long I was going to be here, and I wouldn’t want Seungyeon-unnie to wait too long in the car.”

Nayeon straightened. “So you walked all the way across town.” She glanced at the objects now resting in Jeongyeon’s lap. “With those?”

“Yeah.” Jeongyeon picked up one of the fruits and held it out. “Orange you glad I did?”

Nayeon stared at the orange, and then looked up at Jeongyeon again. The younger girl grunted when Nayeon tackled her to the floor, orange rolling out of her grasp as Nayeon buried her face in Jeongyeon’s shoulder. “I hate you so much.”

“Thanks,” Jeongyeon gasped. “You’re certainly choking me like you hate me.”

“Hey, I’m here too,” Sana whined.

Nayeon waved her over. “Get in here.”

“What?” Jeongyeon tried to raise her head. “Don’t I get a say in this --”

The last of Jeongyeon’s breath whooshed out of her lungs as Sana happily joined the pile, the heavy exhale getting lost underneath Nayeon’s tentative laughter.

 

(“Don’t even think about it, Yoo Jeongyeon.”

Jeongyeon widens her eyes as innocently as she can. “What do you mean?”

“I see you eyeing that strawberry,” Nayeon says without looking up from her magazine. The bowl at the center of the kitchen table is empty except for the offending fruit in question, Jeongyeon’s hand hovering centimeters above it. “Don’t you dare make a pun.”

“Maybe it’ll be a good one,” Jeongyeon huffs as she plucks the strawberry out of the bowl. “But if you don’t want to hear what’s basically the most genius idea for this entire century, be my guest.”

Nayeon flips a page. “Thank you. I will.”

Jeongyeon pauses for all of a second before sidling up to the other woman. “Are you sure you don’t want to hear it?”

“Very,” Nayeon tells her. 

“Really.” Jeongyeon leans in closer. “You’re berry sure?”

During the three seconds it takes for Nayeon to scream bloody murder, Jeongyeon has already popped the evidence into her mouth and dashed out the door, on her way to the convenience store to buy the ice cream she knows Nayeon will demand as penance. 

Jeongyeon can’t think of a better way to spend her Saturday evening, really.)

\---

Jeongyeon spent the entire next day after her wayward confession trying to do something else besides think. But for a brain that had only recently suffered through a whole slew of final exams, hers was incredibly insistent on using every moment possible to think about _not_ thinking about Nayeon.

The university campus wasn’t infinitely large, and Jeongyeon found herself aimlessly passing by a lot of the landmarks she’d begun to label over the years. That was the tree Nayeon said was best for taking selfies under during the fall, when the leaves were just that shade of orange that came out brilliantly regardless of filter. The steps outside the building on the other side of the green was where Jeongyeon had slumped onto after her first party -- not that Nayeon had been any better, but at least the older girl had had enough experience by that point to shoot a sloppy text to a surprisingly sober Sana, and then made sure the both of them got back to the nearer dorm room -- Jeongyeon’s -- safely.

Jeongyeon groaned, shaking her head until her hair flew into her face and had to be brushed out of it again. The students passing by didn’t even spare her a glance, the mid-finals daze settled over their eyes like some mass madness usually only displayed on the silver screen. Like zombies with a thirst for passing grades instead of the minds that produced said grades, Nayeon had said, just a week ago -- 

“Fuck this,” said Jeongyeon, finally. 

And she kept on walking, only making a small detour to the campus convenience store. Because her feet had already been heading to Nayeon’s, anyway.

Nayeon did a double-take when she answered her door. “Jeong...Jeongyeon?”

“Hey,” said Jeongyeon, stepping inside and almost into Nayeon’s arms. Nayeon immediately took a step back, letting her hand slip off the doorknob. 

Jeongyeon nudged the door shut with her foot, and turned back to see Nayeon with arms crossed. Not mad, but definitely shrinking in on herself a little as she asked, “What are you doing here?”

Jeongyeon shrugged, stuffing her free hand into her pocket. “I just thought we should talk. More. About yesterday.”

Nayeon cleared her throat. “Oh, you mean about how Sana and Jihyo are finally going out, and they didn’t think to tell me for a whole two hours?” She straightened for a moment as she squinted at Jeongyeon. “Did _you_ know?”

“Jihyo mentioned a date, but she didn’t tell me who. Then later, Sana sent me a bunch of disgustingly adorable photos. There were so many hearts edited on I couldn’t even see their faces, but I put two and two together.” Jeongyeon heaved a sigh. “Also, unnie, you should stop avoiding the topic.”

Nayeon glanced down at the floor. “I know. That’s what I’ve been told.”

“Same, if that makes you feel better.” Jeongyeon smiled when Nayeon laughed, even if it was just a little. “I’m sorry I left without letting you say anything. I should’ve stayed to hear your answer, even if it’s not one that I’ll like.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Nayeon murmured. “I should’ve said something sooner. I just.” She took a deep breath. “I just didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way.”

Jeongyeon stilled. “You...you like me too?”

“For the longest time.” Nayeon laughed again, looking everywhere but at Jeongyeon. Her arms fell to her sides. “Definitely for the last year or two.”

Jeongyeon groaned. “Jihyo’s right. I’m an idiot.”

“I like that about you,” Nayeon said, fondness warming her tone. “It made it easier, I think. To like someone without having to be afraid that she’d like me back.”

Jeongyeon blinked at the older girl. “Don’t tell me some bullshit like ‘it’s easiest to love someone when you know you’ll never have a chance with them’.”

“Well,” Nayeon paused. “No, I wasn’t going to say that, actually. But thanks, I’ll use it in the future.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Jeongyeon crouched a little, setting down her convenience store purchase before straightening again. “Nayeon.”

The older girl looked up at her lowered voice. “Yeah?”

“The worst that can happen,” said Jeongyeon, “is that we throw away a few years of our lives. Which isn’t that bad in the grand scheme of things, right? I’m going to live forever unless the stress gets to me first, and the grim reaper would avoid you for as long as possible just so he wouldn’t have to listen to your constant nagging.”

“I’m pretty sure that out of the the two of us, you’re the one who nags more,” Nayeon huffed.

“Just your annoying voice in general, then,” Jeongyeon amended. “What I’m trying to say is, what do we have to lose, really?”

Nayeon gave her a half-smile. “It kind of sounds like you’re just trying to convince yourself.”

“Maybe I am,” Jeongyeon said. 

“Well.” Nayeon took a deep breath. “You don’t need to. I mean, if we aren’t meant to work out, we’d find out eventually, even if we just stay friends. So better to find out sooner than later, right?”

Jeongyeon raised her eyebrows. “It kind of sounds like you’re just trying to convince yourself.”

Nayeon’s smile showed her front teeth this time. “Maybe I am.”

When Jeongyeon stepped forward, Nayeon met her the rest of the way. One pulled the other into the hug, and Jeongyeon let herself think for a second that everything felt warm and cheesy and right: a wool scarf that didn’t itch at her neck, or just the gentle curl of Nayeon’s fingers in the back of her shirt.

“So,” said Nayeon, voice slightly muffled because her face was partially tucked against Jeongyeon’s shoulder. “When can we start making out?”

“I hate you,” Jeongyeon said, out of habit. Nayeon merely hummed, and Jeongyeon felt the skin above her collarbone warm. She craned her neck to glance at the bunch of bananas she’d left lying by her foot. “I guess I won’t be needing these.”

“Oh?” Nayeon lifted her head, peeking past the arm Jeongyeon still had wrapped snugly around her. “You don’t find them ap-peeling?” 

Jeongyeon snorted, breath ruffling some of the wayward strands of hair by Nayeon’s ear. “Not as much as you are, I guess.”

Nayeon laughed, and squeezed Jeongyeon’s waist a little closer. Jeongyeon imagined a click, like two pieces of a puzzle finally fitting together, and brushed the thought away almost as soon as it arrived.

She didn’t need to think in fairy tale descriptions, after all, when reality turned out to be so much better.

 

(“Do you still remember my ex from high school?” Nayeon asks idly. 

Jeongyeon looks up from her Lego creation; she’s been working on it all morning, and has convinced Nayeon that the best way she can help is by not doing anything at all. “Yeah, she was pretty. You clearly have good taste.”

Nayeon gapes. “Yoo Jeongyeon.”

“What?” Jeongyeon’s eyes widen. “Wait, wait, put that back. Don’t you dare, unnie --”

Nayeon smugly twirls the Lego piece between her fingers. “If you explain yourself well enough, maybe I’ll forgive you.”

“Okay.” Jeongyeon holds her hands up and outwards, like Nayeon is some feral animal that might jump on her any second. “You know how you and her were co-presidents of the K-Pop cover dance club?”

Nayeon blinks. “Go on.”

“And how the first time we met, it was because Sana was my seatmate in homeroom, and she convinced me to come and check out the club her host sister was leading?”

“Right.” Nayeon nods sagely. “Because you were just poor first-years who didn’t know what to do with your lives.”

“You were president of a K-Pop cover dance club,” Jeongyeon deadpans. “We weren’t even that good.”

“We weren’t bad, either,” Nayeon protests. She holds up the Lego. “You’re on thin ice.”

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes. “Anyway, I thought she was nicer than you. At first!” She adds quickly when Nayeon raises her eyebrows. “But Sana obviously loved you already even though she’d only lived with you for a week, and I thought it was really sweet that you tried to look after Momo so much too, even though she wasn’t your host sister.”

“Did you just say I’m sweet?” Nayeon simpers, batting her eyelashes.

Jeongyeon pretends to gag, but continues. “And you let us look at all your old homework, and when Jihyo also got into our school, you helped her when she got lost on her first day of class and refused to ask anyone for directions.”

“I don’t get why everyone thinks she’s the most capable person on the planet when she’s the one who screamed after touching a peeled boiled egg,” says Nayeon. 

“Probably because you woke her up by stroking her hand with it while she was sleeping,” Jeongyeon says dryly. Then she lunges forward, swiping the Lego piece from Nayeon’s grasp. “Got it!”

Nayeon crosses her arms. “Are you really going to spend all day paying more attention to those plastic bricks than to me?”

“Yup.” Jeongyeon carefully clicks the piece into place. “Are you really going to spend all day sitting there and watch me pay more attention to these plastic bricks?” 

“Yup,” Nayeon says, and pulls her phone out to snap a picture of Jeongyeon hard at work.

“Unnie,” says Jeongyeon after a moment, “I said your ex was pretty, but that doesn’t mean she was a good person.”

Nayeon chuckles. “You don’t have to go that far. We were all just dumb kids back then.”

“Well.” Jeongyeon sets her Legos down. “I hope she’s grown more than we have.”

“She’s definitely grown more into her looks.” Nayeon whistles as she scrolls through the Instagram page she’s pulled up. “Damn, you’re right. I do have good taste.”

Jeongyeon rolls her eyes. “Wonderful. Why don’t you slide into her DMs and leave me alone?” 

“Not until I find the perfect filter for this cute photo of you playing with your kid toys,” Nayeon says. And blissfully stays quiet for twenty more minutes doing just that.)

**Author's Note:**

> i will write/yell about any (non)neglected ship so come find me on twitter @moonrise31


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